Something Given, Something Red
by Ohmie
Summary: Mako let Korra wear his scarf...a small but telling One Shot.


Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own personal adoration for this series and it's predecessor.

Something that wouldn't leave my brain alone...

Set between episode 4 and 5.

* * *

The scarf was the only thing he had left.

He didn't know why he had done it. Parted with it, even for a short period of time. But it had felt right, it had...kinda, just happened.

Truth was, Mako wasn't used to anyone else sticking up for him. For Bolin. Not, someone outside the family. And, well... their family wasn't very large, even if you counted Pabu.

He hadn't known what to do. Hadn't known what to make of it. He had been the only one, for so long the _only one_ who cared where Bolin was every night. Made sure they were safe. Fed. Clothed. Safe...always, safe. Doing what needed to be done for his little brother because no one else would. But now...

She was there. Next to him. The Avatar, no less. She had looked at him without the shadow of doubt or hesitation and said '_we are going to save your brother'_. We. Together. Confidently enthusiastic and honest in her follow up. She wasn't just making promises, but actually keeping them. They had gotten Bolin back. Back before he had let the unthinkable happen. Before he had failed to save his brother from a nightmare.

Before Bolin's bending had been taken away.

That personal crusade that he had taken upon himself shared, for the first time. Of keeping his family safe. The only family he had left. He hadn't had to even ask her...

Later...removed from the quick chain of thinking and panic he realized, he had let the scarf go because it wasn't the only thing he had anymore. Not the only comfort. The only reminder of someone looking out for him. A warmth of love long missed and brutally stolen.

Somehow, he had her. He didn't have to go alone. He didn't have to risk his little brother's life on the strength of just his own shoulders anymore. Someone else cared. Really, cared.

He had given her the only thing he really had to give as thank you. A thank you for risking her life, for his brother's. A thank you for sharing his concern where so many others would have seen useless urchins. For being friends even when things went wrong. Really, wrong.

He had offered it to thank her without really understanding what he had done...

...and, she had given it back.

She had given it back after they had escaped and it was...it had...smelled, differently. It had meant, more...and he didn't think that was possible. She had said, '_this is important to you, isn't it?_' and he had just nodded, taken aback by the insight.

He hadn't told her. She had figured it out. She knew him better, in that moment. Known from watching. From interacting. From understanding. She had given it back. Reverently. With understanding. With a smile of thanks. Like she had known what it meant even before he had, the act of lending it to her one cold night.

Later, it hit him with an odd pang that, while Korra had figured it out on her own...

...he had to explain it to Asami.

It...nagged him. Insistently. Even as he tried to put it from his mind. Tried to focus on other things, on Asami. It just, made so much sense! Him and Asami. She was everything he had always wanted, everything he had always lacked. She could help him be better, and when he was better, Bolin was better. They, were better. They weren't on the street anymore. They would _never_ be on the street again. They wouldn't have even been in the tournament without her. She was beautiful. Smart. Warm. And for some reason, attracted to a guy like _him_ when she certainly could have had anyone. She saw beyond what life had made of him, and into what he could be. Everything a guy could dream of, so how could he even think about-

-But at the oddest times the scarf would catch him off-guard. The smells gathered over the years had long since covered his father's but it was a familiar reminder of all they had been through. Alleyways and scrounging, lamp soot and various jobs, blood stained from when he had used it to save Bolin's life so many years ago. A muffler of tears when no one was watching, a wall against the world and courage when he couldn't keep it at bay.

Now it smelled like water, and fire and earth. A little bit like Naga, and something that was uniquely Korra but hard to pry apart and identify. It was all the elements of life trapped in the fabric, stirring when his nose dipped into it just _so_. It was...better. It was a reminder, now, of better. Of a life looking up. Of bending matches and excitement in looking ahead daring to overtake the old. It was a _possibility_.

It was fear.

Fear of just another thing to loose. Just another thing to leave him. The slight, acidic tang of Equalist lightning interwoven with everything else.

But she had known what the scarf had meant.

So, maybe she knew everything else, too.

...and if Mako let his chin sink forward just a little when no one was watching, well...maybe he knew it too.


End file.
